


I Won't Make This Easy

by Syntaxeme



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Consensual Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Genderbending, Love/Hate, Minor Violence, Romance, Secret Relationship, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syntaxeme/pseuds/Syntaxeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sable (fem-Pitch) has never been very good at taking "no" for an answer. Even though Jack rejected her once, she's intent on persisting until he sees things her way. While he might not like the idea, Jack is finding out that maybe being a Guardian isn't all fun and games, after all. As for Sable...no one can stay alone in the dark forever.</p><p>But that doesn't mean the two will always (or often) get along. Sable is still a manipulative sadist, and Jack is still snarky and can be surprisingly vindictive. Expect vicious arguments followed by even more vicious kisses. But there are times when it's clear to both of them that they need each other, and at those times, the fighting can wait. It's a strange sort of love/hate dynamic these two have, but they may find it works better than expected.</p><p>Future plot points will include but are not limited to: confronting Sable's recurring nightmares and what they mean, inevitable trust issues between two people who have spent so long alone, and the term "fraternizing with the enemy."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            “She hasn’t said a word since we caught her.”

            “Gimme a minute with her; she’ll make her talk.”

            “Calm down, Cottontail; with your temper, I’d play you like a fiddle anyway.”

            “Listen, ya ruddy—”

            “ _Ahem._ Is now really the time, you two? We have a situation to deal with.”

            “she say we just let ‘er rot in there. Least then she can’t do any more damage.”

            “Did she actually _do_ anything once she got in…?”

            “It makes no difference. Until we learn what she is planning, she stays here, and we keep eyes on her.”

**…**

            To avoid the sunlight shining through the bars of her surprisingly-comfortable prison cell, she stayed as far as possible into the back corners. The shadows were welcoming, cool and comfortable, and snow occasionally drifted through the open window to light on her skin and clothing. It was quiet for the most part. To make sure she couldn’t sneak off to cause trouble, she was under constant watch by yetis or, on occasion, a Guardian with spare time.

            “Oi.” Her quiet contemplation was interrupted by the Pooka’s voice. He sat outside of her cell, painting eggs, glaring at her distrustfully. When she glanced up, he narrowed his eyes and asked, “What’re you playing at? If you think this buttoned-up act is gonna psych us out, you’re gonna be disappointed.” She blinked at him slowly and turned away, letting her eyes fall closed again. “Tsk.”

            Her capture had, of course, been entirely intentional. The only thought that had spurred her to come back up from hiding after her inglorious defeat was the idea that Jack’s mind might have changed. She wondered if he might reconsider after learning that the Guardians who had become his only friends were so rarely all together. If what I’d gathered about him was right, she was sure he’d be dying for more consistent company—ideally, someone whose attention he could completely monopolize. When she resurfaced, it was with the goal of finding him and making him understand that she was his best option.

            The simplest way to do that was to go through the other Guardians, to whom he was no doubt clinging as often as possible. Now that she was among them, even imprisoned, she had only to wait until she could get him alone. She resolved to stay focused on only him, and the others would not have so much as a word from her.

            “Still nothing, huh?” It was his voice this time, drawing her attention to him and the darkened room where she sat; night must have fallen while she was lost in her own thoughts. Her eyes darted toward the sound to find him peering at her through the red and white striped bars of her cell. His face reflected distrust, curiosity, but no hatred. That was encouraging. A slight smile curled her lips, and his eyes narrowed.

            “Not a bloody word. Dunno what she’s thinkin’; maybe she’s just lost it and she’s givin’ herself up.” His tone showed that he didn’t consider this a genuine possibility.

            “Hm. Wouldn’t that be a lucky break for us,” Jack muttered, not taking his eyes off of her for a moment. Just the way she wanted. After a moment, he took a step back to speak quietly to Bunnymund. He paused and looked up from his painting to answer in hissing whispers. Their secrecy piqued her interest, but just as she began to listen more closely, the conversation was over. The rabbit stood and, with a last venomous glance in her direction, left the room. Jack watched him go, then dragged his icy eyes back to her.

            “What do you want?” he asked coolly. He seemed to have no doubt that she would answer him.

            “Me? You’re the one who wanted us to be alone,” she pointed out, turning to sit properly on the bed she’d been given and crossing one leg over the other. The way her robe split up the side, it fell away to reveal the shape of her thinly-clad calves, but his eyes didn’t wander from hers.

            “Because I know I’m the reason you’re here,” he said, leaning his staff against his shoulder and taking a step closer. His other hand was in his jacket pocket as he went on, “So, what do you want? The sooner you tell me, the sooner you can leave.”

            “Do you want me to leave?” she asked, tilting her head back. “Why? Do I present a temptation that makes you nervous?” He rolled his eyes. _Brat._

            “As if. You’re making _everyone_ nervous just by being here.” And there it was: even without any malicious action, she would always be hated and feared, simply for being what she was. “If I can get rid of you by talking to you for a minute, I’ll deal with that.”

            “How terribly gracious of you,” she tried to keep the growl from her voice, reminding myself of why she had come. Inhaling deeply, she folded her hands on her knees. “Tell me about your job, Jack. Are you enjoying being a Guardian?” His disdain faded to shock for a split-second before returning in full force.

            “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked defensively, delighting her the way he never backed down from her challenges. “What do you even care?”

            “Mm, I’m afraid that doesn’t answer my question,” she said as she stood and made her way toward him. “Has it not been all that you expected? All _fun_ and laughter? No more loneliness? No more doubt?” In his eyes, a blizzard was brewing, but she paid the warning no heed.

            “What are you trying to say?”

            “I think you know very well what I’m saying. I’d wager you’ve been thinking about it yourself, judging by how much the subject seems to bother you.” she reached the door of her cell and leaned against it, sliding her hands up the bars to hold onto them. Casual, confident that she was in control of the situation, she continued, “It’s quite a lot of work, isn’t it? Enough to keep you busy constantly, trying to build a name for yourself, trying to live up to their expectations. That likely doesn’t leave much of the personal time you’ve gotten so used to having, hm?”

            “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said firmly, trying to hide behind an icy mask of indifference. But she could feel the fear in the back of his mind, and she knew ice could be easily shattered.

            “I do, and so do you. I can understand the pressure that comes with the title. The desire to do good.” He scoffed weakly at that, but she went on, “And the feeling that even when you’re surrounded by people, people who think they understand, you’re still utterly and inescapably alone.” His body language reflected what his words wouldn’t: his shoulders dropped, and his grip on his staff tightened. Having lost some of his steam, he was refusing to meet her eyes.

            “Why are you doing this?” he muttered. “What do you want from me?”

            “You misunderstand me, Jack; I’m here to offer _you_ something.”

            “Again? I already told you, I don’t want to be part of your world-conquest thing.”

            “Let me rephrase: this offer isn’t a partnership. It’s simply my presence and my ear whenever you need them.” _Among other things._ “I have no intention of keeping you from your duties or from seeing the other Guardians. But when they’re too _busy_ for you, when you tire of sledding and snowball fights, when you want the company of someone who truly sees you…I offer myself as an option.” His frown deepened, but it was clear that he was considering her words, just as he had the first time. She could only hope the outcome would be different this time.

            In the room’s dim lighting, his skin all but glowed. Would he be soft, she wondered? Would he be warm? Or would he be cold and firm, like ice, like death. She’d never had the opportunity to embrace him, yet when he looked so troubled, she wanted to do nothing more. He was so close…she dared to reach out and brush his cheek, but the moment her fingers touched his frigid skin—so he _was_ cold—he flinched away from her touch and aimed the end of his staff at her guardedly.

            “Don’t touch me,” he snapped. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re trying to play here, but I’m not gonna let you mess with my head.”

            “The entire world can’t be reduced to one ‘game’ or another, little boy,” she said, storming back into the shadows, frustrated with having been rejected again. “How very like you to run away from something because it isn’t ‘fun.’”

            “I’ve _never_ run away from you,” he said, returning her gaze with equal intensity.

            “And I want you all the more for it,” she hissed.

            “Stop! I don’t even know what you’re saying—you want me? What, as a pet? That’s not going to happen.”

            “Oh, I feel it’s only a matter of time. We both know you’re terrified that someday you might not be enough for _them_ anymore, and you know that _I_ ask for nothing more than your presence. You’re afraid all those years of isolation might have damaged you beyond repair, but you know that _I_ would have you regardless.”

            “What if _I_ don’t want _you_? I don’t know what makes you think you know me so well when I take every chance I can to get away from you!” He was the one at the door now, barely held back from being in her face.

            “Then why don’t you ‘get away’ now?” she demanded, stepping in closer to glare down at him. Her hand caught the front of his jacket to forcefully drag him closer, so close that he had no choice but to hear her every word. “You’re a _child_ who doesn’t even know his own heart. Small wonder they never trusted you.” Incensed, he tore away from her and flash-froze the bars of the door, shattering the brittle steel. In an instant, he was gripping her robe, forcing her back against the wall.

            “You don’t know anything about _me_ or _them_ or any of this, because you were _never_ good enough. You never got this chance because they _knew_ there was no good anywhere in you. We’re _not_ the same,” he snarled, and that snowstorm in his eyes raged fiercely.

            “Think that all you like, you ignorant brat.” Not content for the moment to be manhandled, she took hold of his wrist and pried his grip away. If he wanted violence, she had it in spades.Twisting that arm behind his back, she pushed him face-first against the same wall. He swiped at her with his staff, but she pinned that arm as well, using the pressure of her body to hold him still. She may have been only an inch or two taller than him, but it was enough that she could immobilize him. Her chest pressed into his back so he stiffened and let out a gasp as she spoke into his ear. “But why do you feel you have to defend yourself so viciously? Is it because you know I can see straight through you? Because I know from experience _exactly_ how you feel? You’ve spent so long alone that the thought of someone who sees you for what you are is _terrifying_. Isn’t it?” If they were as alike as she thought, she knew these jabs would hit him _hard_.

            “Shut up,” he growled. “Get off me!” He thrashed and shoved back against her, freeing his arm and hooking his staff around her ankle. He pulled, but as she fell, she grabbed his jacket to drag him down with her. As her back and head collided with the stone floor, her spine arched, and she let out a groan of pain.

            As she blinked her blurred vision clear, she saw Jack kneeling over her on his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath and wearing an expression of something like confusion. His panting breath ghosted across her neck, and heat crept into her chest. He seemed torn, frozen as she pushed herself up toward him. She stopped with her lips just a breath away from his, encouraging him to close the gap. The storm in his eyes had died down, leaving them cloudy, and his throat constricted as he reflexively swallowed. Hesitantly, he began to move closer—but halted at the sound of the door opening. They both snapped toward that sound to find Sandy in the doorway, gazing at them with wide eyes, half-formed question marks floating around her head.

            Just briefly, Sable’s hand brushed against Jack’s cheek, and then she disappeared through the shadows and out the window into the night, proving that they’d never had her captive to begin with. Her Night Mares had been waiting outside, and we raced back to our “home,” enjoying the cold wind’s bite. She had gotten what she’d wanted; now it was his turn to seek _her_ out.


	2. Chapter 2

_Her pale little hands reach up toward me, and she’s bouncing on her toes._

_“Mama,” she calls. “Pick me up!” How can I resist that sweet smile? Sweeping her up into my arms, I tickle her sides so she squirms and shrieks with laughter._

_“Have you run away from your lessons again, her love?” I ask, holding her on my hip. My fingers push through her dark locks, nearly identical to mine. “Tsk, tsk, your father will be very disappointed.”_

_“But Papa always wants her to stay home…she wanted to go sailing with you,” she says, fingers delicately tracing the golden ropes of my epaulets. Hearing this, I let my smile fade._

_“You know that I would love to take you out with me, my precious starlight, but straying so far from home isn’t good for a little one like you,” I tell her. “It’s not safe.”_

_“But you’re stronger than them. You’ll keep her safe,” she says with a child’s optimism and boundless faith in me. Before I can prepare a rebuttal, a young man in military array rushes over to us. His uniform indicates that he’s a lower rank than I am, as does the salute when he reaches us._

_“General,” he says, clearly out of breath from his haste. “There’s been a breach. It was a small party; the patrols must have missed them. The entire city….” He lowers his gaze._

_“What? Is it all right? Is Papa all right?” the child asks, already beginning to grow frantic._

_“Shh, it’s fine, love.” I kiss her forehead and hand her over to the other soldier. “Get her to safety, immediately.”_

_“No, Mama, I want to go with you!” she cries and writhes in his arms, reaching out to me. “I want to go with you and find Papa!”_

_“Listen to me, my love. I’m going to go and find Papa right now. We’ll come to meet you soon. Both of us. Now go.”_

**…**

            When she woke, she could hardly breathe, clutching at her chest and gasping through tears. Her heart felt tightly clenched, physically painful, and she curled in on herself to wait for it to pass. There was no point dwelling on that. Whatever it was, it was not her life—yet scenes like this still haunted her nightmares. Slowly, too slowly, the pain began to fade, and she let out a shuddering breath she’d been holding for too long. Her head felt light, and she fell back against the bed. Night Mares had gathered in the room, likely the cause of her dismal visions, but she let them be; she couldn’t bring herself to spurn them for what they were.

            Why she had let herself sleep, she didn’t know. It never helped, never made her feel any better. But she had to pass time somehow, and she hadn’t been able to return to work. Not yet. She was certain that if she did, the Guardians would perceive it as a threat and seek to stop her. Because she was still reeling from her abrupt loss of power, she wouldn’t have been able to defend herself.

            One of the Mares butted against her back, so she pushed her away and left the bed. Her feet led her to her hollow globe to observe the lights. After a bit of research, she had learned that she could use them to determine Jack’s general location. The lights glowed brighter when children’s belief grew, so there were always brief and isolated glows, but Jack had a talent for bringing out every child in the area to join his fun. When she saw a gathering of particularly bright lights in a small space, she knew he was there…and she would block the light out with her hand, cursing him from afar.

            It infuriated her that she wanted him so much. Their last encounter had given her a taste, an instance where all of his attention, his frustration and passion and anger were focused solely on her. The more he fought, the more he challenged her, the more she wanted to keep pushing and find out how much he could take before breaking. The intensity in his voice haunted her as she struggled to sleep. The way he glared, the way his voice never shook when he spoke to her; it came back to mind all too often. And _damn_ him for occupying her mind that way. Without the slightest effort, he had already taken all of her attention, and he wasn’t even _there_.

            She found herself tightly gripping the cold metal of her globe in exasperation, so she released it with a sigh. Staying alone in the dark much longer was sure to drive her mad.

            A gust of cold wind brought her back to the moment from the maze of her thoughts. Odd, since the air underground was usually stagnant, dusty. By reflex, she tensed and turned away from the sensation.

            “So, is this all you do now? Just stand around being bitter?” She couldn’t help but smile, pleased not only to hear his voice, but also the jibe it carried.

            “Better that than pitiful and lonely,” she answered without looking at him, and he let out a dry laugh.

            “Better? It’s the exact same thing. Being hostile is just your way of dealing with it.” From the corner of her eye, she could see him stroll past her. He was still tightly gripping his staff, not entirely at ease, but neither was he completely defensive. Tilting her head to one side, she glanced knowingly in his direction.

            “That was surprisingly insightful, Jackson. One might even think you had personal experience in that area.” Stepping up to walk expertly along a narrow rail, he blanched.

            “Don’t call me that.” So it bothered him? Just one more tool in her arsenal, then.

            “Why not? Does it bring up memories you’d prefer not to confront?” she asked, folding her hands behind her back to lean against the globe. He let out an irritated sigh and shook his head.

            “What am I doing here?” he muttered to himself. To keep him from leaving, she amended herself:

            “I’m glad you came. I never doubted that you would—”

            “Yeah, yeah, I know: you know everything about me because I’m _you_. I get it.” Her smirk slipped a bit, but her eyes didn’t leave his back.

            “As much as we may have in common, you _aren’t_ me,” she said evenly. “There’s too much good in you for that. And, as you so aptly pointed out, none in me.” This caused him to pause mid-step for a moment.

            “Weird,” he said. “For a second there, that almost sounded sincere.”

            “I do have the capacity to be honest, believe it or not. In fact, sometimes the truth is far more frightening than any lie I could dream up,” she mused, turning toward her globe again, not actually to observe, but simply as a way to detract her attention from him. Her fingers walked along the Western hemisphere, stamping out lights as if she could dim them. “I’m sure you’ve realized that by now.” A moment passed in silence, and he came to rest lightly at her side.

            “I’m not agreeing with you. You’re making the others out to be the bad guys here.”

            “Oh no, Jack,” she chuckled. “I’m _always_ the bad guy. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have something you need.” She was growing very tired of dancing around her point, but better that than to drive him away.

            “Need? You think?”

            “Well, clearly you need _something_. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” For the first time since he’d arrived, their eyes met. Recalling the last time this had happened, Jack withdrew a few inches.  Her voice dropped a bit as she switched tactics. “I understand, Jack. No one is that pleasant all the time. You’re presenting yourself the way you want to be seen.”

            “Pff.”

            “You know I’m right. When there are no children, no Guardians around, you aren’t the same. You play your tricks for attention, freeze over entire towns for ‘fun,’ just to matter to someone, even indirectly. But once that’s over and you’re alone again—”

            “You’re saying you spy on me? Is that supposed to be attractive?” He was trying his best to change the subject.

            “—on nights like that, I’ve seen you suffering. What I see is a boy who’s been longing for _three-hundred years_ for even a moment of attention. Affection. An opportunity to touch another person and actually feel something.” She took a step back to make her way behind him. “And I can give you all of that.” Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, and though he tensed, he didn’t jerk away.

            “I don’t trust you,” he said plainly, earning a laugh from her.

            “That’s hardly surprising. But I don’t expect you to yet. That’ll come with time. I don’t even need a definitive answer.” Her hands slid down his chest so her arms were draped over his shoulders, and she pulled him back against her. Upon feeling the embrace—something he wasn’t at all used to—he let out a breath and relaxed in her arms, even letting his grip on his weapon fall slack. Just the reaction she’d hoped for. Her head rested against his, and she spoke softly: “Tell me you don’t want this.”

            “…so this is just a favor to me, huh? What do you get out of it?”

            “Hm. I thought that was obvious.” Her breath fell across his neck, and he shivered in her grasp.

            “You just said ‘company’ before. You didn’t say anything about…this.” He nudged her head to indicate “this.”

            “Ah, I suppose you’re right. Well, if it’s making you uncomfortable….” She pulled her arms away and stepped back—but his free hand grabbed hold of her wrist so quickly it almost seemed reflexive. “Second thoughts?”

            “I don’t know. Just.” He pulled at her hand to drag her back. This time, he turned to face her, wrapping his arm around her waist. That set her back. As much as she had thought of it, holding him—or _being_ held?—didn’t feel the way she’d expected. The feeling itself was almost embarrassing; she wasn’t an excitable little girl. Why should her chest feel so hot, so tight? Light and thin as he was, his body was surprisingly solid against hers. Hesitantly, her arms moved to complete the gesture, wrapping around his shoulders. The slow in-and-out of his breathing was all but hypnotic. Struggling to maintain her safe façade of condescension, she cleared her throat and attempted,

            “Why, Jack, I—”

            “Don’t. Okay? Just don’t for a minute.” She didn’t. It was silent, dark, and the nearness of his body gave her chills; she had never been more comfortable. She didn’t try to move, having convinced herself that he would leave if disturbed. “Everything you say about me, all that… _angst_ or whatever. That’s all you, too. I mean, you need this just as much as I do.” _At least._ She stayed silent and let her hands speak for her; they closed tightly on his jacket, a grip she didn’t dare release. “Hm.” He nodded slowly.

            He took a step back and somehow disappeared out of her arms. The next moment, his lighthearted laugh was echoing through her dark halls.

            “Y’know.” He was gazing down at her from a high ledge on the wall, grinning. “Seeing you like that, I think you might not be so scary after all.” Not sure whether he meant this as an insult, she responded in kind.

            “And here I was thinking you’re just leaving as this was starting to get fun.”

            “Ha. What’s _fun_ is dragging this out and watching you chase after me,” he answered, dangling his legs over the edge. So he was intentionally teasing her. Maybe he was more wicked than she gave him credit for.

            “Well, it’s good you’ve enjoyed it; now that I’ve seen you so vulnerable, I get the feeling I won’t need to do much more ‘chasing.’” And then, for good measure: “Jackson.” He laughed in a way that teetered between amusement and irritation.

            “Sure, you can say that now. But we’ll see how you feel after I’m not around for a while. I give it a week or two before you come looking for her.” He flipped forward off the ledge and let the wind grab him to sweep him out of the room. “You did just say that you _need_ me!” When he was gone, the room was still again, and it felt somehow empty. The presence of his voice and personality was big enough to fill the expanses of her lair so that when he was gone, it almost felt like negative space.

            Her Fearlings and Mares, who had fled his presence in recognition of what he’d done to them before, started to creep back in. They gathered around her, looking askance at their mistress, wondering what it was in that boy that could make her pine after him so. But even in her current state, she wouldn’t allow them to doubt her. To remind them that she was still their Queen, she hissed at them viciously; they immediately fled and dissipated into the shadows. But her condition didn’t change. The rest of the night and the following day, she was nursing a fresh wound in her chest. It was emptiness, a pain she had grown used to—but it had been some time since she’d had anything so precious to lose.


End file.
